


The Institute

by ErisChaos



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7039612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErisChaos/pseuds/ErisChaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. The Great War was avoided. Piper Wright is a Journalism and Sociology student at Harvard University. Her roommate, Cait, and close friend (maybe more?) Danny Sullivan, and she make a fun, tight knit group that tends to be up to no good. However, Piper is convinced there is truly something wrong on not just Harvard's campus, but CIT's (Commonwealth Institute of Technology) as well. Better known as the Institute, Piper KNOWS they're up to something sinister, but she can't prove it. As much as she wants to talk about it in the Harvard student paper, her editor, Dr. Nora Blue, tells her she has to find proof of these claims, before she can print an article. So Piper sets out to find out just what the heck is going on at the Institute, and how to stop it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Institute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No new chapters yet, but I changed a bit of Cait's back story. I swear I will get something new done on this!

_Boston, Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Harvard campus, 2277_

When I tell you there’s something going wrong on in this city, I can promise you I am NOT crazy! There’s something majorly messed up going on, on campuses all over Boston, and

“I am going to find out about it. Even if it gets me kicked out of school, I don’t care. I’m getting to the bottom of this, and bringing the responsible parties down with me,” I yelled to the university newspaper editor, Dr. Nora Blue, as we talked over my latest article proposal, “I can’t sit and let things keep going wrong. We deserve better!”

“Piper, we just don’t have any proof,” he answered, “I agree with you that things are very…odd…right now, but without proof I CAN’T print this article. Bring me some hard evidence, and I can run this story. Until then, I need you to write me something to print. Talk about grading policies, or the football team.”

      “Anything to please the masses. Forget making them think, or question. Just tell them something boring and monotonous to distract them from the real problems.”

      “Piper Wright, remember, I decide who stays and who goes on this newspaper. You will behave respectfully, or you won’t have a place on this staff at all.”

“So I’ll just go start my own,” I mutter under my breath.

“What was that, Ms. Wright?”

“I said I’ll get right on that,” I said. I didn’t like the suggestion, but I didn’t like the idea of not being on the paper, either. So I bit my tongue and walked out with my article tucked in my binder before heading out of the office.

      Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t launch with a rant. Though, that seems to pretty much be my standard mode of operation anymore. Let me backtrack some, and then bring you up to speed.

      You got my name, Piper Wright. I’m a junior at Harvard University, studying Journalism and Sociology. I really enjoy it, and I’m debating on grad school, but for now I have to focus on finishing up here. I write for the school paper, too. I’m one of the top contributors, but I want to try for the head editor position next year. Well head student editor. There has to be a professor supporting the paper, else, it doesn’t happen. If I don’t play nice, I don’t get the position.

      So what the heck was I angry about? Well, things here in the Commonwealth have gotten to be a little bit…weird. It’s hard to put my finger on. Several students have been turning up “sick” with some odd virus or flu or something, miss a week of class, and are back, fit as a fiddle, the next Monday. ALWAYS on Monday. They email one Monday, and are sick, the next Monday, they’re back. It’s always organized. And it isn’t just happening at Harvard either. It’s at UMass, and CIT, and a bunch of smaller campuses in the area too. No one knows how or why, just that it is. But I have my theories, and I am going to find out what’s going on. I have a few contacts I need to talk to about this.

      I walked back to my apartment, frustrated with what I heard, but I knew Dr. Blue was right. I needed proof. If I went in just shooting my mouth off, there goes my credibility. But if I can back myself up, then I have something to work with.

      I’ve heard of a group in the North End that should know something about what I have been thinking. Real hush, hush, but these people knew their stuff and had “sources” I was told. They only met every so often, and in the crypt of the Old North Church. I didn’t know much about them yet, but I knew I had to get in there somehow. I think they call themselves The Railroad.

      Anyway, I got back to my apartment, and my roommate, Cait, was there already. Cait and I were as different as night and day. She was feisty, belligerent, stubborn, mouthy, and could drink a fish under the table. She also had a knack for getting into fights, and every now and again I got a late night phone call she had gotten into a tussle with someone, and needed a ride before the cops showed up. She could party with the best of them, and never left the house without a knife strapped somewhere on her.

She was here from Ireland. Why she wanted an education in the US and not Europe, I will never understand, but that’s what she said. So we ended up roommates Freshman year. Been that way ever since. We lived in a private student dorm Freshman year. Didn’t matter what school you went to, to live there, you just had to be enrolled. We got lumped together oddly enough, and both thought it an ill made match. But we discovered we got along better than we imagined we would. When when we decided to move to a regular apartment our junior years, we stuck together.

Me, on the other hand, well, I liked to keep to myself. My stories did my talking for me. I’ve gotten into some real craziness in the midst of writing them, but when I’m on my own, I try to keep calm. I would rather drink a cup of tea while reading a good book. My idea of a good time was watching the news, and getting pissed off at the world. While I did that, Cait was probably at a party, getting into trouble again.

The thing is with her, is that she is REALLY smart. I mean, scary smart. While I was at Harvard, she was studying to be an auto mechanic. Funny thing was, she took to it QUICK. I guess her dad had a shop back home, and she always worked with him. She almost seemed too smart though to settle. I tried to convince her to be an engineer, but she’d have none of it. Always said that she had no time for their “hoity-toity nonsense” and wanted to keep it simple. I suppose that fits her pretty well. She was the definition of “I don’t give a fuck” but when you sat her down in class, she could talk circles around anyone in there. It was incredible. Sure, obviously I’m smart enough, if I got into Harvard, but not like Cait is. I had to work for it. Cait, it just came to her. It was ridiculous.

So of course, I got home to see her watching a soccer match, drinking a beer. It was Friday, and our classes were out for the weekend. So why not?

“Hey Cait,” I said, walking in and setting my things down. I hung my favorite hat on a peg by the door, and my bag next to it.

“Hey there, Piper,” she said, he thick accent greeting me, “how did the meeting go?”

“For peanuts,” I answered, “I guess I see my editor’s point, but I want to get people aware. Something’s going on, and I want people to know.”

“Sounds like a problem you would have,” Cait said, “always trying to save the world.”

“Hey, I save it, you fight it. That’s how we work.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“I always am,” I said, smiling. Cait laughed a bit.

“Want to watch the match with me?” she asked.

“No, I’m fine,” I said, “I think I’m gonna give Danny a call, before I start getting to work on this.”

“Well what do you know,” Cait said, “he gonna be a man soon and admit that he wants to bone ya?”

“CAIT!” I said, “That’s not how it is.”

“Of course it is,” she said, “It’s always Danny this and Danny that. He comes over and you 2 are so cute I almost puke.”

“We just study together, that’s all. We have a few classes together.”

“Oh please, you two make eyes at each other like it’s your job. I’m surprised you aren’t begging him to kiss you.”

“Cait, just stop it. We’re friends, that’s all.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, love,” Cait said. I knew she didn’t believe me, but she didn’t push any more either. For once…

I did give Danny a call about what we were doing on our latest class research project. And I needed to borrow some of his notes, to compare to the ones I took. I wouldn’t ever admit this to Cait, but I did get a thrill out of talking to Danny. He was so different from me, but I always thought he was cute, and he made me feel…nice. Like I didn’t have to impress him, he just liked having me around because I’m me. It was nice feeling that way around someone.

      When I finally hung up the phone, he said he’d be over tomorrow after class with his notes for me to copy. Awesome.

      It was starting to get late, and I had a lot to get done before I went to bed. I figured I could do that, and take it easy before going to class in the afternoon. Always beats rushing, and cramming at the library. So, I got to work, until it was quite late, and eventually got to a point where I could call it for the night. After I got my work done, I got ready for bed. I checked my clock as I climbed in. It was only 12:09 that night. Not bad. I call that early. See you tomorrow morning, world.


End file.
